


Words

by fructoselollipop



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:18:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1734200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fructoselollipop/pseuds/fructoselollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 100-word drabbles, each one based off a different word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

**1\. Madness.**

It is hard to miss the way he tenses at any implication that he is less than perfectly sane. 

_Crazy people don't know they're crazy_ , Emma tells herself. For his part, he masks it well. His voice never shakes, never wavers. He doesn't twitch or jump at small noises. 

But she can see it in his eyes; the manic certainty that she will somehow succeed in this undeniably  _insane_  task he has set before her. 

And that's the maddest thing of all. Not the drugged tea, or the gun in his hand, or the magic. Rather, his belief in her.

**2\. Hats**

"Of all the things to make into a magical world hopping portal, why a hat?"

Jefferson stares at her. It takes him a few moments to even realize that Emma had spoken. To be honest, he had taken a little trip inside his mind while she's been working, mulling over the circumstances that led him to this deplorable point. Kidnapping, drugs, threats of violence. The last thing he expected was for her to make conversation. Add it to the list of ways in which she baffles him.

"I don't make the rules," he replies finally. "I just play by them." 

**3\. Rabbits**

There is a patchwork white rabbit in the room Jefferson keeps for Grace. Amidst the fine clothes, furniture, and frankly far too expensive toys it seems like it doesn't belong. 

"It was the last thing I was able to give her," Jefferson says when Emma asks about it one day, his voice carrying the weight of his three decades long estrangement. The corner of his mouth lifts a little bit. "I made it out of old clothes and pillow cases, and stuffed it full of straw. And she told me she loved it." 

It doesn't seem out of place anymore.

**4\. Alice**

"So if you're the Hatter," Emma says suddenly one day, and Jefferson notices that she has taken care to avoid the word he always dreads hearing. "Was there ever an Alice?"

Jefferson gives her a wry smile. "Maybe you're Alice."

She scoffs in disbelief. "Being the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming is one too many destinies for me, thank you. I don't need another on top of it." 

He shrugs. "So its just a coincidence that you're a blonde girl who got lost in a strange new world of magic and madness that she can hardly understand?"

"Yes."

**5\. Feathers**

Emma's eyes track the progress of the feather as it's tip trails its way down her naked body. "Enjoying yourself?" She asks the man wielding it, who grins in response. 

"What can I say?" He says, his voice low and husky. "It tickled -" he circles the feather over one of her nipples and she has to slap his hand away, "-my fancy." 

She rolls her eyes even as she shivers her desire. "I can't believe you just said that." 

Jefferson tosses the feather away and crawls on top of her, his lips nipping at her neck. "Yes, you can."

**6\. Death**

Watching Regina and her father disappear beyond the looking glass, Jefferson felt himself die inside. With every hat that failed to open a magical portal back to his world, to his Grace, he died again. And again and again.

When they came to Storybrooke, every sunrise brought a new death, as he was forced to watch his daughter live and laugh and love with a false family. Every sunset he watched as they sat down to dinner and his heart would wither.

Emma was the first thing to make him feel alive again when he didn’t think it was possible.

**7\. World**

"I don’t want to go back to your world." Emma is shouting. All they ever do these days is shout at each other. 

Jefferson wants to take Grace, and Emma too, and go home. He still clings to the feeble hope that returning to the Enchanted Forest would erase the dual identity Regina’s curse created for his daughter. He can’t stand to watch her struggle anymore. 

But Emma doesn’t want to leave Storybrooke, and neither does Grace. Jefferson is stuck in this world whether he likes it or not. Emma was supposed to be his savior. Instead she’s his anchor.

**8\. Reality**

Sometimes Emma wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of Jefferson shouting, “OFF WITH HIS HEAD!” Its the nightmares, the ones she didn’t sign up for, but should have expected really, when she committed to the Mad Hatter.

She holds him while he shakes and scrabbles at his neck desperately, whispers soothing words in his ear, until he wakes up and comes back to reality. Sometimes he clings to her and weeps, others he pushes her away, hissing at the contact. 

But always she swears she will make Regina pay for what she did to him. 

**9\. Imagination**

"So, you said that there are infinite more worlds, right? And that they come from imagination?" Emma asks over breakfast. Henry and Grace perk up immediately. This should be good.

Jefferson lifts an eyebrow “Theoretically.” He cants his head sideways slightly. “Emma, the hat’s gone. We can’t go anywhere even if we wanted to.”

"I know that. But I was just wondering, if the hat was still around and working, could we, like, go to whatever world that Harry Potter exists in?"

"…Who’s Harry Potter?"

A sigh. “Never mind.”

Henry and Grace exchange a glance and giggle behind their hands.

**10\. Black eyes**

Jefferson has never seemed more dangerous, and that is saying something, considering how their first meeting transpired. But Emma is not afraid. She knows that expression, the way he stalks toward her, his pupils blown so wide with lust that his eyes almost look black. 

It triggers a memory of the first time he looked at her like that. The first time he took her. The first time she came apart in his arms. The first time she wondered if she was in too deep. The first time she decided it didn’t matter. 

This is love and it is madness. 

**11\. Sanity**

"Jefferson, if you’re gonna make me do this the traditional way, you should at least stick to the traditions."

Jefferson plays dumb. “Tradition? What tradition am I supposed to be violating?” 

Emma rolls her eyes, far too used to his antics. “It’s bad luck you know.” She levels a glare at him and for a moment he can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “You’d be insane to want to invite more bad luck into this….” She stops there, still unable to name what they have. 

But Jefferson grins. “You call me insane, yet you’re the one that’s marrying me.”

**12\. Portals**

Sometimes they lay awake in bed together and talk about what life could have been like if they had met in another time and place. Emma would have liked being a portal jumper, she thinks. Always a new place to explore, new things to experience. Nothing to tie you down to one world. She imagines doing all that and more with Jefferson, and she thinks she could have been happy like that.

But then she remembers her lion hearted Henry and sweet little Grace, asleep in their own respective rooms, and decides she doesn’t have it so bad after all. 

**13\. Yellow**

"What do you think of yellow?" Emma asks, peering at the paint samples before glancing to her left at her husband. The way his lip is curling would make her laugh, were it not for the fact that he has pulled the same face at every color she has suggested so far. "Oh, come on! We have to choose something!"

"Pink," Jefferson replies easily, to which Emma huffs irritably. 

"For the thousandth time, pink isn’t a gender neutral color."

"Doesn’t matter." His fingers stretch over the tender swell of her belly, caressing softly. "Our baby’s a girl, I know it."

**14\. Red**

Jefferson always makes an effort to hide his scar, except when they are being intimate. He’s ashamed of it, thinks it’s unsightly. Emma’s too embarrassed to admit that she thinks its actually pretty sexy, so she always makes sure to take full advantage of the opportunities she’s afforded. 

She likes to drag her nails over it while they kiss, enjoying the way it turns red and the sharp inhale Jefferson inevitably takes afterward. She loves tracing her tongue over it and the way he grips her just a little bit tighter when she does. 

Eventually, thankfully, he takes the hint. 

**15\. Blue**

Blue Moon is playing on the record player, and Emma and Jefferson are holding onto each other and swaying to the music, their own cheap imitation of dancing, though really it’s just an excuse to be close like this without it degenerating into sex like it always does.

Not that sex is a bad thing (it is most certainly not a bad thing), but Jefferson did start to wonder if it was the only kind of relationship they would ever have. 

Emma’s head on his shoulder, her contented sigh, her expression vulnerable yet so strangely trusting…. He’s not worried anymore.

**16\. Water**

Emma tilts her head back, letting the water from the shower head cascade down her body, hissing slightly as it runs over the particularly raw and fresh bite mark on her shoulder. At least Jefferson remembered to place his mark far enough down that it could be hidden by a shirt. She still cringes with embarrassment recalling when she went to work with a glaringly obvious hickey on her neck. She doesn’t think she’ll ever live it down.

She supposes she should be ashamed, but, for once in her life, she’s really not. He makes her happy and that’s enough.

**17\. Suits**

"Do you even own a pair of jeans?" Emma is asking from the closet. 

Jefferson looks up from where he is still in bed, reading the newspaper. He actually has to stop and think about the question. “I don’t think so,” he replies after a moment, just as surprised as she is. “Why?” 

Emma reappears from the depths of the lavish walk-in closet. “Just wondering if you ever get tired of wearing those suits.” 

"Don’t you like them?" Jefferson asks, lifting an eyebrow. He can’t help but smirk at the faint blush that comes to her cheeks.

"I hate you."

**18\. Blonde**

Emma sighs softly as Jefferson cards his hand through her curls, rolling her head into his touch and melting slightly. He’s always had a particular thing for her hair, is always touching it whenever he can, twirling a curl around his finger or tucking it behind her ear right before they kiss. 

_He must have a thing for blondes_ , she thinks to herself, remembering his daughter’s hair color. She wonders for a moment if she’s just a replacement for Grace’s mother, but she quickly pushes that thought aside. She has enough trust and self worth issues without dwelling on  _that_ . 

**19\. Road**

When the magic barrier around the town finally comes down, the first thing they do is hit the road. Jefferson’s had wanderlust even at the best of times. Thirty years locked in one small town, and even more trapped in Wonderland before that, has only given him cabin fever. 

Besides, this is a brand new world. There’s so much to see and do.

They take the kids with them. Their first family vacation. Emma is their tour guide, taking them to Niagra Falls, the Utah salt flats, and the Grand Canyon. And, Jefferson thinks, he could get used to this.

**20\. Cars**

Emma laughs herself stupid the first time she sees Jefferson’s car. “The color!” She wheezes, clutching her sides, while Jefferson pouts indignantly to the side. 

"It’s not like I chose it!" He protests. "It came with the curse! Blame Regina!"

But nothing he says quells Emma’s amusement. She giggles about it for hours, and even Jefferson pointing out she drives a VW Bug fails to calm her.

Thankfully, they both forget about it for a while until one day she says, “We’ll need to get a bigger one at some point." 

**21\. Guillotine**

"How did it happen?" Her fingers are splayed over the scar, tracing it gingerly, as if it’s a wound that still hurts. 

Jefferson, for his part, rolls his eyes. “Honestly, princess, did you even read the story?” He’d smirk at her, except she kicks him in the shin and instead he grunts with pain. She doesn’t reply in the affirmative though and so he at least feels certain that he’d hit the nail on the head. “An ax,” he says finally when she still doesn’t answer. 

Emma hisses in sympathy and kisses the scar. “At least it wasn’t a guillotine.”

**22\. Drugs**

The closest they ever come to breaking up is when Emma learns Jefferson has been self medicating his… whatever it is with sleep aid drugs. 

"It scares me sometimes, Emma," he shouts, looking truly frightened. "The days when all I want to do is make a hundred new hats and it’s all I can do to stop myself from going down to Grace’s school and taking her away. I don’t want to do that to her but… I don’t know how to stop myself. So I sleep until it goes away."

The next day Jefferson has an appointment with Archie.

**23\. Music**

They go dancing one night at the club Jefferson supposedly owns, but really has nothing to do with. He hates the whole experience, from the way too loud music, to the smell of the thronging crowd. He has to shout over the noise about how he would prefer to be home with a glass of wine (or a cup of tea) and his record player. 

Emma would laugh at how old fashioned he is, except…. He’s got a point. She’s not a teenager or a young twenty something anymore. What’s more, they don’t need to do this to have fun. 

**24\. Stitching**

"Your stitches are horribly uneven." 

Emma looks up from her monstrosity of a hat to glare over her shoulder, where Jefferson has taken up residence so that he might critique her work. “This might come as a shock to you, but I don’t actually know how to make hats.”

The mad man grins. “Relax, you’re doing fine. For an amateur.”

She’d like to make a derisive comment about how she is supposed to relax when he has a gun pointed at her. Except that’s not quite true. He left the gun on his side of the table twenty minutes ago.

**25\. Smoke**

Its the first truly cold day they’ve had and Emma is looking forward to their first fire of the season. She pesters Jefferson all day about getting the wood, and the newspaper, and the lighter fluid (despite his insistence that he can build a fire without it, thank you very much). 

After fussing with the arrangement of the logs and the newspaper for an obscene amount of time, he finally has a mighty blaze burning. 

However, his masterpiece hasn’t been lit long when the living room starts to fill with smoke. 

"Dumbass!" Emma chokes. "You forgot to open the flue!" 

**26\. Pragmatism**

"You know what the ironic thing is," she says dryly and, not waiting for him to confirm he’s even listening, she plows on, "If you had just come to me like a normal human being and told said ‘hey, by the way, your kid is right about the storybook’ I probably would have listened to you. You made a convincing a pretty convincing case. You didn’t need to fucking kidnap me." 

_You never would have believed me_ , he thinks sourly.  _I see that now._

But out loud he says, “Pragmatism was never my strong suit.” Lord, aint that the truth. 

**27\. Tea**

"Wanna know a secret?" 

Jefferson leans forward, grinning. “Always.” Every day lately has been a treat. Every moment he gets to spend with her a blessing. He doesn’t know how he managed to convince her to trust him again, that he was truly sorry for what he’d done, to give him a second chance. He suspects Henry and Grace have something to do with it. He’s not sure whether to thank or throttle them. But, here she is, sitting across from him at Granny’s, wearing a shy smile he swears she’s never given anyone else. 

"I don’t even like tea."

**28\. Cravat**

Emma hooks her fingers inside his cravat and pull him forward, their lips crashing together like forces of nature. He seems surprised; perhaps he didn’t expect her to initiate things (he wouldn’t be the only one). Regardless, he warms to the kiss quickly, wrapping his arms tightly around her while they learn the shape and taste of each other. 

His is a passion that is easy to get lost in. There is no desire to take things slow, no time to stop to reconsider. Before she even realizes it, she is swept off her feet - both literally and figuratively. 

**29\. Dress**

"Is there any occasion that you might actually wear a dress?" Jefferson asks, watching her pick out clothes for work (mourning the fact that she will soon be dressed). 

She wrinkles her nose a bit at the suggestion and he laughs at her distaste. “I don’t know,” she says once he’s calmed himself. “Maybe my wedding, if I ever have one.” 

"You’ll have one," he replies and he doesn’t mean to but he sounds so sure of himself that her head snaps around to stare at him. 

"You think?"

Jefferson’s smile is worth a million bucks. “Oh, princess, I _know_.”

**30\. Time**

"What time is it?" Emma asks, bursting into her parents house breathlessly. 

Both Jefferson and David move toward her to take her coat, but her lover gets there first. “Two minutes til. You just barely made it.”

"Is everything okay?" Henry asks curiously, clutching a glass of sparkling cider. 

"Yeah kid, just your run of the mill bar disturbance. But enough of that, the count down is about to start!" 

Henry runs off to join his grandparents, and Emma takes Jefferson’s hand affectionately. Five, four, three, two, one. Together, alongside their family and friends, they usher in the new year.


End file.
